Conversations with Cordelia
by Wesfan1234
Summary: Post "Not Fade Away" Cordelia comes back to tell the guys how much they've messed up and how to fix it.
1. Chapter One Wesley

Title:  Conversations with Cordelia Chase

Summary:  What would happen if Cordy came back after "Not Fade Away" to tell each of the guys they'd screwed up major big time. 

Author's Notes:  I know, another post-"Note Fade Away".  Cordelia has a conversation with each of her boys, Wesley, Gunn and Angel.  She doesn't have one with Spike because, hey, he hadn't earned his stripes to be a member of the team until the very end.  What would have been the one thing that would bind them together and make them fight together again?  And how many of you believed that crazy doctor when he said that Fred's soul was gone?  You would think they'd have more sense than that.  Taking Cordelia off was probably one of the most stupid things that Joss has ever done (sorry I know, money issues with WB and Fox).  It's four chapters so far.  Don't know how many more.  We'll see how many reviews I get.  If I don't get any, that's fine.  Just read and enjoy.  Comments if you can.

Rating:  PG—mostly for a little language, no violence for now

Disclaimer:  I wish I did, but I don't.  Joss is a genius, at least most of the time.

Chapter One -- Wesley

"No man can be happy without a friend, nor be sure of his friend till he is unhappy."—Thomas Fuller

"What in hell did you think you were doing?  Taking on that creepy guy with just a fireball," Cordelia shrieked at Wesley when she first saw him.  "You really thought you could beat him?"

Wesley shook his head, not realizing why on earth she was yelling at him.  It was over, done with.  He'd lost.  Game over.

She punched him hard in the arm and he almost fell over.  She packed a wallop of a punch even though she'd been dead for quite some time.  So why'd it hurt?  Were things supposed to hurt where he had ended up?

"Cordy, I know you're angry with me."

"Damn straight.  After I gave that vision to Angel, of course almost getting in deep doo-doo with the PTBs for doing that, I thought that the three of you would have a plan.  Not go off all half-cocked and macho.  What were you thinking?  Oh, that's right.  You weren't."  She hit him again.

They were in Cordy's old apartment, standing in the kitchen.  All of a sudden, after the searing pain of the knife had stopped, Wesley ended up standing next to Cordelia in her kitchen.  Was this heaven or hell?

"Cordy, will you stop hitting me for one instant and tell me what in blazes is going on?"  He tried to use his serious voice on her, but he could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Why I even try is beyond me.  And here I sacrificed everything for the three of you for each of you to screw it up royally.  You were the man with the plan, remember?  Gunn was the guy who you could count on not going out and getting himself killed because he was such a great fighter, and Angel, he was always there to make sure it all came out right.  He's the one who never sacrificed any of the team just to win.  No one did what they were supposed to do."

No one had been doing what he or she was supposed to do ever since they'd taken on Wolfram and Hart's deal.  No, even before that.  Probably when he'd taken Connor away and lost him to Holtz.  That's when everything fell apart.  Before then, they'd been a family.

"I should have been there.  I should have stayed."  Cordy leaned into Wesley just like she'd done so many times before when things were tough.  "You weren't supposed to be here.  Not like this, not now."

Wesley stroked a hand down her back to try and comfort her.  He didn't think it would work, but, hey after a knife in the gut and dying with the face of Fred floating before him, a little comforting for someone else was much more preferable.

"It happened.  I'm sorry that it didn't work out the way you thought . . . "

"It never does because you never listen.  You never talk to me, like we used to."

That was true, Wesley knew.  They never had really talked after Connor disappeared.  Wesley hadn't tried to explain to Cordelia what had really happened, nor had she asked.  They were never close again.  That pained his heart to see that Cordy had really missed it. 

"Things change.  We never got the chance."

"Well, now buddy, we'll have all the time in the world.  And just so you know, it wouldn't have worked."

Wesley shook his head.  Cordy did have the ability to jump between subjects, while most people just barely kept up.  Sometimes it took him hours to realize what she might be saying.  Probably came from him not quite understanding the female of the species.

"Fred.  Wouldn't have worked."  Cordy waved her arms in front of his face.  "You would have gotten your memories back about Connor and she would have dropped you like a hot potato."

"How dare you?  You don't know anything about Fred and myself."

"Oh yeah.  Well, what's Fred's favorite color?  Or her favorite book?  No wait, scratch that, she told you when she was dying.  Her favorite time of day?  What she liked to do on her time off?  Bet you can't answer any of them."

Wesley moved off in the opposite direction of Cordelia into her living room.  Living room, what a misnomer right then.  Neither one of them lived any more. He sat down on her sofa, dejected.  He couldn't save Cordy or Fred from their fates.  Why was she beating up on him now?

"I didn't know any of those things, Cordelia.  But I did love her."  Didn't she understand that?

"I know you did.  But you put her on a pedestal.  Treated her like she could do no wrong.  Eventually she would have slapped you down.  Do you realize that?  Come on, speaking from experience here.  Women don't like puppy dogs as boyfriends."

"Puppy dogs.  What on earth are you talking about?  She was the love of my life.  How can you say those things?"

Cordy put her hands on her hips, like she knew you'd say that and she had the perfect comeback.  Which she usually did.  He sort of knew what was coming.  Had thought about it so hard over the last couple of months, after Fred had died and been inhabited by Illyria.  The drinking and the madness hadn't removed the thought from his brain, although he had tried so hard to forget.

"Love maybe.  Ideal probably.  In the real world, nope.  She wasn't a person to you.  She was your ideal girl.  Perfect in every way.  She was smart, cute, friendly, no family issues.  Everything you weren't.  So of course you were attracted to her."

So Cordy didn't think he was smart, or cute or friendly.  He knew he had the most dysfunctional family around, but her opinions on the other things did count.  She didn't like him anymore.  He just hoped that he didn't have to spend the rest of his dead life with her harping on his faults, something that he'd had to do when he was living.

"OK, that didn't come out right.  You are the smartest guy I know, plus big blue eyes, the girls really like that.  You could use some work on the friendly issue, OK.  Just being honest on that one."

Maybe she was right.  Fred was his ideal.  Considering all of his other blunders, how could he have gone wrong with Fred.  Life sucked.  The afterlife sucked too.

"Let's go through your other girlfriends, shall we?"

"What, you want to take another knife and stick it in my gut?"

Cordy winced at that statement.  Failure all around.  She sat down with him and took his hands in hers.

"That's not what I mean.  You know me.  I just want you to get past some of this.  We have a job to do, so if you don't get past it, it won't work."

There she went again.  Cryptic as ever.  Sometimes he wondered if he should have written a book on how to decipher Cordelia Chase-speak.  Probably would have been a best seller.

"OK first, there's me.  Didn't quite work out the way you had wanted it to, did it?  Then, there was Buffy.  Didn't want to listen to you no matter what you had to say.  Faith, we could write volumes on that one.  Never knew whether she wanted to torture you or jump your bones.  Virginia, what a mistake.  Lilah, the evil lawyer-bitch she was.  Just gives me chills, you know.  Who else can we add to the list?"

"That's quite enough Cordy."  All of his failures for him to see flashing before his eyes.  Why did his friends have to hurt him so much.

"What I'm trying to say is that compared to all of these women, Fred was a walk in the park.  You like strong women, right?"

There seemed to be a pattern that Cordy was trying to connect the dots with, but he wasn't seeing it.  "I haven't really thought about it that much."

"Every single woman you were attracted to could kick your butt, do you know that?

He narrowed his eyes at her.  "You really think you could take me on?"

"Well, when you were Watcher Boy, yeah, I probably could have kicked your butt back then.  Not now, mind you, Gun Boy and all.  Each of these women is independent and strong.  And each time they kicked your butt, if sometimes only figuratively.  Then comes along Winifred Burkle.  Someone you could protect and take care of.  Is that what you really wanted?  Someone just like yourself."

"You're wrong about her.  She was independent and strong.  You just didn't see it.  I could see it."

"Yeah.  What's that line in Shakespeare about protesting too much.  She needed to learn how to stand on her own two feet, but none of you would let her.  The three of you smothered her.  She was just growing into it, when you decided that you'd go after her again.  Didn't realize that she didn't need another man in her life right then?"

"What do you know about relationships?  How many did you have?"

"Hey, it's quality, not quantity.  You didn't need a woman to define you, OK?  That's what I'm trying to get you to see.  Wesley, you're fine just the way you are.  And until you see that, no women.  Because I need all of your attention right now, not all of your baggage."

"Cordelia, this is the strangest conversation I have ever had with you.  Will you bloody well please tell me what is going on?"

"OK, OK.  Mister I-have-to-know-everything-right-this-moment.  You remember when that weirdo doctor told you guys that Fred's soul was gone, poofed.  Well, he was wrong."

"What?  How do you know?"

"I'm sitting right here, right now talking to you, buster.  That's how I know.  Get a clue.  We have so much work to do."

Cordy got up to pace back and forth.  She looked exactly like the way she did that last day they all saw her.  Beautiful, ready for a fight.  Ready to take on the world.  He had to believe her now.  Fred's life depended on it.

"I know that look.  You need to put your feelings for Fred aside right this instant.  If we get her back, she won't be the same.  Illyria's not going away.  And I need my Book Man on the job.  You with me?"

Wesley stood up to join her.  "Yes.  Just tell me what to do."

Cordy rolled her eyes at him.  "Just don't revert back to Weiny Wesley, alright.  And first, a change of clothes.  I really don't want to look at you with your insides hanging out and all that blood.  Kind of makes me nauseous."

Wesley looked down to the horrible mess the knife had made.  "Yes, indeed."

"I can even dress you here in this dimension."

"Cordy," Wesley growled with the meanest voice he could conjure up at the moment.

"See.  I knew that Wesley was still in there.  Let's get to work."

Wesley took Cordy's hand and walked out the front door.  Now he had a reason to live for, if only figuratively.


	2. Chapter Two Gunn

Chapter Two -- Gunn

"Don't be such a baby.  Get up you big oaf."

Now that couldn't be Cordy's voice he was hearing.  She'd been dead for months.  She never woke up from that coma Jasmine had put her in.  That one day she had come back had been Ghost Cordy, even though he could touch her.  He missed her beyond belief.

"I need you, Gunn.  Angel needs you.  Since Wesley went and got himself killed, I need you, alive.  We have a lot of work to do.  So quit taking a siesta and snap out of it."

Kind of hard snapping out of a coma, but if any voice could do it, it would be Cordelia's.  The woman could scare God when she was on a roll.  Gunn moved slightly, pain searing through him.  He couldn't move any more.

The last battle had gotten him.  He was lucky to be alive, much less in a coma.  Angel, Spike and Illyria had beaten the demons back, defeating most of them before they had retreated.  Gunn had lasted all of fifteen minutes in the battle, more than the ten minutes Illyria had given him.  

As he lay there watching the rest of the battle unfold, his life really did flash before his eyes.  All the things he had accomplished and all the failures he had under his belt.  He'd screwed up too many times in his life.  And his friends and family had paid dearly.  Why would he want to wake up and face another day?

Gunn felt Cordy shake him, but didn't want to open his eyes.  She'd see the shame in them.  She'd see how much he had failed at since she left.  He didn't want to see that in her eyes.  She had so much faith in him before.

"Quit faking.  I know you're in there.  Visions you know.  Plus, I'm dead and you're not, so you think I'd know if you'd bought the farm."

Damnit, why was she always right.  She'd told him so many years ago (yeah, only three, but that was eons ago in his book), that she'd be watching out for him.  She'd be his guardian angel.  Kind of creeped him out at first.  To have this white chick as a guardian angel. 

"I know it hurts, but I need your help, Gunn.  It's really important."  Cordy's voice got all soft and mushy.  Now he knew he was in trouble.  That woman could get anything she wanted.  OK, not anything, because, hey, she's dead now.  But she obviously had him wrapped around her little pinky because he gradually opened his eyes.

"Knew it.  Playing possum doesn't work on me.  Now listen, here's what I need for you to do.  First, you have to get up and out of here."

Gunn moved his index finger and cringed.  Even moving that hurt too much.  He had more tubes coming in and out of him than he'd ever seen on one of those medical TV shows. 

"OK, I'll admit that's going to take a little more work, but it has to be soon.  We don't have much time.  Wesley is doing research right now as we speak."

Now that pain hit him squarely in the gut.  He's dead.  Illyria had told them that he had died.  What on earth was Cordy talking about?  All of them knew it was a suicide mission.  He knew he'd probably end up dead.  He was so lucky to have gotten out of the Senator's office in one piece, of course with lots of those pieces jumbled up inside of him, but he didn't get gutted.

Man, he knew Wes had the hardest assignment.  That Vail guy was scary.  Taking on the Senator and a bunch of vampires was right up his alley.  But Wes didn't have the mojo that Vail did.  And Angel knew it.  He just wanted Wes to keep the guy busy, to piss him off.  Illyria was the only one to not follow orders and go looking for him.  All she had told him was "Gutted" when he asked how he had died.

They all had each other's backs before.  This battle they had none.  Everyone was on his/her own.  Everyone had to sacrifice.  He had understood that when he had raised his hand in Angel's office.  The Senior Partners needed to suffer, just like they had suffered.  Cordy, Fred, then Wes had all been taken from them.  The bad guys deserved to suffer.

"I know, dead and all, but he can still research.  Lots more books though.  I need you to help me with the living.  It's about Fred."

His hand suddenly moved.  Fred.  The one person he could count on, the one person who was good in this world was dead.  Soul burned up being taken over by some ancient demon-god.  And it was all his fault.

"There might be a way.  If you'd just wake up and get moving."

Why should he hold out any hope for Fred to return?  His signature had doomed her to permanent death, no afterlife, nothing.

"I know.  You screwed up major big time.  How many times had you sold your soul to make a difference?  Just to have it backfire big time.  It was always selfish, do you know that?  Every single time.  The first time, for that truck.  You thought it would keep you alive just long enough to make a difference, which it did.  The second time, for a girl.  A lousy girl.  OK, so it was Fred.  You gave her your soul to have her smash it to pieces.  And when you guys broke up, the soul was for a brain boost.  See a pattern, Mr. Brilliant."

Cordy, always making you feel crappy just when you couldn't feel any crappier.  She was right on all counts.  He was selfish, mostly for all the wrong reasons.  His soul really never meant anything to him until Fred had died.  He would have given it up just to bring her back.

"We need to break that pattern, right now.  Now get your ass up out of that bed."  Cordy grabbed his hand and yanked hard.

"Ouch.  Damnit, woman.  That hurt," he told her.

"Ha.  Knew you were faking."  Gunn shifted his arms to lever himself up out of the bed.  He didn't know how he'd done it, but he was actually sitting up looking at Cordy finally.  He might pass out at any moment, but at least he was up.

"Knew that a little coma couldn't keep you down."

"What's this about Fred?  What do you need?"

"That stupid doctor lied to you guys.  I think we have a chance to bring her back."  Gunn knew that stance.  That I'm-going-to-kick-your-butt stance she got right before they went into battle.  That kind of stance that he had missed in the last one.

"But how?  What about Illyria?"  It hurt just to talk, but he knew he had to.

"Well, they might just have to share.  Fred's strong enough though.  She can hold her own.  Please do this for her."

To have Fred back, to be able to apologize to her for the rest of his life.  He never got to say he was sorry.  He had tried with Wes and that didn't even work right.  He had lied to Wes about the paper.  Now he had a chance to make up for some of it.  A least a small portion of it.  Redemption was a bitch.

"What do you need me for? Let's go woman."

Gunn slid off the bed and steadied himself.  His legs were still there and working.  They may be shaking, but they were still working.

"Let's go find Angel."


	3. Chapter Three Angel

Chapter Three -- Angel

Was it possible to hurt everywhere?  Angel knew it was now.  No other battle had put so many bruises and wounds on his body.  Spike had called him a walking cadaver as he pulled the last sword from his back.  Lucky for him.  Spike didn't look any better than he did, but at least they were both still alive, undead, but still moving.

Illyria had fared much better, because she had on some type of body armor, so many of the blows delivered by the demons were just deflected.

They had somehow beaten them back though.  Just the three of them.  Two vampires and an ancient god who had been semi-neutered.  They had been effective as a team.  Not his team, but a team nonetheless.  Gunn had collapsed in the first fifteen minutes.  Illyria had put him somewhere safe while the battle continued.  He was in a coma right then, somehow surviving until the battle's end.  He just hoped that Gunn didn't linger on, become a vegetable like Cordy had.

Now Angel could lie down, rest and recover from his many wounds.  The spell against demon violence was still in effect in the Hyperion from long ago (a year seemed so long ago to him right that instant).  Hopefully no strays would get in and murder him in his sleep. 

He was just fading off into slumberland when a voice came to him.  He was dreaming, he was sure.  The voice was ticked off.

"Get up stupid-ass."

There's only one person who ever called him that.  And he wasn't talking about Spike. 

"Why are you sleeping when there's so much to be done?  Oh, that's right.  I'm talking to Angel.  Who just got his butt kicked because he didn't listen to me, that's who."

He opened one eye to look into Cordelia's lovely, yet angry face.  Nope, he was dreaming.  He turned over and closed his eyes again.

"Oh, no, you don't."  Disembodied voices don't normally hit you.  He groaned, thinking that he had rolled wrong on some injury he had received.

"You have screwed up so much I could scream."

"Already screaming," he said into the pillow.  Cordy's presence in his dream was scary indeed.  He hadn't dreamed of her in a while.  Since she had given him that one last vision, he hadn't really dreamed much at all.  His mind had been focused on one goal.  Making the Senior Partners pay.

"I could scream louder but my throat hurts from yelling at the other two.  You, I should just hit."

Another punch, this one to that nasty slice to his back that Spike had stitched up.  And the way Spike stitched, he knew there'd be scares all over his body.  Not that he didn't care.  He was so scarred on the inside, he'd need them on the outside to match. 

He'd lost them all.  That's what he'd told Faith on the phone not more than an hour ago.  Doyle, Cordy, Fred, Wes, probably Gunn.  He'd let them all down.  Ever since Doyle had died, he had promised himself that no one else would die because of his decisions.  They'd all die old and happy.  Now none of them would.  He'd sacrificed each one of them, supposedly for the common good.  Sacrifice the one for the many. 

He knew that the job was not without risk, but his batting average was an abysmal zero.  Spike survived in spite and Illyria was, hell, he didn't even know.  Buffy did much better protecting her people than he did.  Willow, Xander, and Giles were still walking and talking, even after battling the First.

He'd go on though.  Had to.  They're deaths would mean nothing if he didn't.  But he'd never get close to anyone ever again.  He'd go back to what he was before Cordy and Doyle had pinned him down that day in the office and said they were moving in.  Literally.  They had moved into that office and into his life and wouldn't let go.

Doyle's death had hit him hardest.  Doyle's selfless sacrifice.  Then Wesley had come along and had made him hope for more.  That they could make a difference.  Gunn and Fred had come and fit in nicely.  Then Connor had arrived.  He'd been the happiest vampire with a soul in the world.  Or as happy as he could be without that pesky curse resurfacing.

Then it all came crashing down again.  He knew he couldn't be happy, ever.  Holtz reappeared, Cordelia left with Groo, and Wesley stole Connor.  His life had never been the same since. 

Every single person had been right in his or her assumptions.  Holtz had every right to come after him.  He'd killed his family for goodness sake.  Cordelia deserved happiness with someone who could give her that, physically and emotionally.  And Wes.  Everyone had first thought that the prophecy wasn't true.  Was placed there by Sajhjan to throw Angel off and put everyone in a tailspin.  It was all true.  All of it.  Wesley was right. 

The father will kill the son.  He was right all along.  It wasn't until Angel had to strike Connor down, when he was going to blow up innocent people along with Cordy, to let him live that it struck him.  If Wesley had succeeded that night, Connor would be a different person.  He probably would not have known how to fight or maybe he would have with Wes around.  Connor would have only been two.  Gunn and Fred would be alive and together.  And Cordelia wouldn't be poking him right now in the back to get up.  She'd be alive and kicking, instead of in some grave, rotting away.

What he didn't expect the dream to do was feel so real.  Cordy not only hit him, she pulled him over and sat down right on him, pinning him to the bed.  He really didn't need an erotic dream right that instant. 

"Just go away.  I'm trying to sleep Cord."

"You are so not going to sleep right now.  You just need to listen broody boy."

She was strong.  Really strong right then.  Maybe he'd just let the dream play out so he could get to that deep sleep where nothing could bother him.

"Open your eyes and look at me.  They're not swollen shut.  Figures that you would avoid having your face hit, pretty boy."  Cordy slapped him in the face, hard.

"Ow.  That hurt."  Angel opened his eyes to see a furious Cordelia looking down at him.  And he thought this dream would at least be pleasant.

"Get up.  Get up."  A hysterical Cordelia now.  She stopped slapping and started punching.  He had to grab a hold of her arms to make her stop.  She was still chanting for him to get up.

"Stop, Cordelia.  Right now."  His command broke her.  Tears streamed down her face.

"You so screwed up.  Why don't you ever listen to me?  None of you listened to me.  And now look.  You're all dead.  That wasn't supposed to happen."

Angel sat up and took Cordelia in his arms.  Her whole body shook with sobs of anguish. 

"It's OK.  It's alright."  Angel held her until her sobs stopped.  He rocked her until her body gave out and her head laid down on his shoulder.  Holding her like that right then was not erotic in the least, but if the dream went better, maybe he'd forget what had happened in the last forty-eight hours.

He'd watched as each of his friends raised their hands to certain death.  They all knew what was going to happen.  He had even warned them.  A suicide mission.  Spike raised his hand first.  He would, considering how many times he had already died.  Didn't matter to him in the least.  He always found a way around certain death.  Wesley had been second.  Suicide was not in Wes's agenda, but he wanted to die all the same.  Just didn't want to do it to himself.  The man loathed himself just as much as Angel loathed himself.  Two kindred spirits.  Gunn went along like he always did.  Fight the good fight.  Make the world a better place.  He'd been a little shocked when Lorne had raised his hand.  Lorne had changed in the last year.  The funny man with a heart had become cold and hard.  Angel had changed him.  But he was loyal to a fault.

And Angel had sent each one of them to certain death.  Wes's assignment had been the hardest.  Both knew that Vail was stronger.  Had seen that Vail was stronger, just as they both knew that Hamilton was stronger than Angel.  But Angel had lucked out and Wes hadn't.  Wes didn't have Connor coming to the rescue.  Only Illyria, a little too late.

So now why didn't he deserve a nice, simple dream.  He figured Wes would come back to haunt him.  Make his life a living, or unliving hell.  But it was good old Cordelia instead.

"You are such a butthead."  Cordy's use of insults were welcome at the moment.  Angel wanted to feel again, just a little.  "I thought I was doing the right thing.  I agreed to this and it didn't work.  It's all my fault.  It's all my fault."

The racking sobs threatened again until Angel pulled back and looked into Cordelia's eyes.  They were swollen from crying.  A stab to his so dead heart.  He brushed damp tendrils of hair away to look at her fully.

"What's your fault?"  This would be great, he thought.  She probably broke some important thing in heaven or something.

"Everything that has happened.  Connor, Wes, Fred, Gunn, everything.  It's all my fault.  I want to fix it.  I can't fix it."

"What do you mean?  None of that is your fault.  Whatever that might be."  Angel knew he was slow on the uptake, but which incident could she be talking about now.

"If I had been around physically as well as mentally when Wes had been working on the prophecy, none of this would ever have happened."  Great.  She blamed herself for something that Wesley did.  "I could look at either one of you and figure out you were holding back.  I wasn't here to do that.  No one was talking to any one.  I screwed up.  Then I didn't go to him.  It all started there."

"No, no.  You can't say that.  You had to live your own life."

"What, with the puppy dog.  You and I both know that was wrong, wrong.  I should have realized that right when Groo walked in that door.  Always thinking of myself instead of you guys."

"Sometimes we need to think about ourselves, even a little.  You had to find out about your feelings for Groo."

"Right.  Right about the time that I had feelings for you too.  Right at the time Connor was just a baby.  I knew Wes was having trouble, but I just ignored it.  I thought it was just Fred and Gunn.  And even if it was just their relationship, then I should have been there to comfort him.  Instead, everything went terribly wrong.  Our family is shattered and I don't know how to put it back together."

The tears came again.  But this time Cordy got a handle on them.  Angel could already feel that his shirt would take quite some time to dry after Cordy had spilled so many tears down the front of him.  But he didn't mind.  What he did mind was her train of thought.  Or his train of thought in the dream.  Cordy was not to blame.  He was.

"It was my fault, Cordy.  I let everything else in my life slide but Connor.  I was blinded by him.  His miracle.  I should have seen the signs that something was wrong.  Don't blame yourself."

"Sounds like there's enough blame to go around then.  So what happened this time, huh?"  Cordy's eyes dried.  Her eyes bored into him.  "I gave you one little vision, and you go all broody on everyone and don't tell them what's going on.  Oh, and then you tell them a couple of days before the apocalypse thinking that they actually had a choice to join you.  You really think that worked?"

Cordy slowly got off Angel's lap.  Angel missed her closeness, but her tone of voice was a warning.  The performance before was just a precursor to what she had to say.  She'd let him have it with both barrels.

"You closed yourself off.  Remember how well that worked for you when Darla came back from the dead.  Wolfram and Hart almost won that time too.  You are definitely not Plan Boy.  Haven't you learned from your mistakes?  You're plans usually consist of going in and hitting things.  Don't you know that doesn't work?  I am so angry with you right now.  It wasn't supposed to happen that way."

Angel didn't know what to say.  His subconscious was beating up on him now.  He'd never know what he should have done differently.  He knew that he should have done everything differently.

"Remember after Doyle died, and Wes joined.  You didn't want to get close to anyone else, but you did.  When they tried to drive me crazy with the visions and blew Wes up in your apartment, you told me that we mattered more.  Yeah, you went in and pounded on the bad guys a bit, but we mattered.  If you don't have your friends, then does it really matter how many bad guys you defeat?  You at least needed to tell Wesley and Gunn.  You owed it to them.  How many times did they have your back?  They had no backup.  Wesley died alone, Angel.  That I will never forgive you for."

Cordelia was right about it all.  He'd made some decisions and they had all turned out wrong.  He didn't even know if the end result had been the end result he had wanted.  He didn't know how much the Senior Partners were hurt.  He just knew that his family was gone.  The only family that had ever mattered.

"I'm sorry, Cordy.  I thought I was doing the right thing."  When Connor had disappeared into that hell dimension, Angel had sat, stunned for days.  Now, he cried.  Cordy was there for him.  Both times.

"You have to fix some of it, Angel," Cordy told Angel as she held him.  "I might know how to fix some of it.  I might know how to bring Fred back."

Angel pulled away and looked at her.  "Are you serious?  Her soul is gone."

"I tell you.  The three of you are so gullible.  Why on earth would you believe some demon doctor?  Why wouldn't he lie to you?"

"Spike tortured him."

"Big deal.  Look, we need to work on this.  It won't be perfect Fred back, but Illyria will have to share."

"Put her back in her body?  How?"

"Wes is working on that right now." 

Angel shook his head to clear the cobwebs.  This wasn't a dream.  Cordy was sitting there, talking to him, right in front of him.  "What?"

"Do you really think that we'd just die?  Come on, how many dimensions do you think exist out there?"

"I've only been to a couple, so I really don't know," Angel said to her, not really knowing the answer.

"Just because that icky demon killed Wes doesn't mean he's not still around.  Come on, this is Wes we're talking about.  Shot, stabbed, throat sliced.  Takes a licking, keeps on ticking.  Just in this case in a different dimension.  You up for it?"


	4. Chapter Four The Plan

Chapter Four -- The Plan

Hope was what Angel had now.  Something he didn't have just moments before.  Wes was still there, fighting on.  Cordy too.  Fred was floating who knew where.  "Gunn?"

A knock at his door finished his sentence.  Gunn opened the door, slowly walking in.

"Don't say anything.  I hurt, bad.  Got some good pain meds and came over as soon as Ms. Bother-Me-While-I-Die came and kicked my behind into action.  So what's the plan?"

"Not Plan Boy this time.  She's Plan Girl."  Angel pointed to Cordelia.

"Oh, no.  Not me.  I'm Ms. Kick-the-Guys-In-the-Behind Woman.  I don't make the plans.  Wes is working on that.  We need to find Feganbaum.  I think that's how you say it.  Something to transfer the soul to once we harness it."

"It should be in her things.  Where are they?" Gunn answered.

"What is it?  This Feganbaum thing?" Angel asked.

"A stuffed animal.  A stuffed bunny." Gunn told him, laughing.

Angel, Gunn and Cordelia walked down to the lobby, ready to do battle again.  Spike saw them coming down the stairs and pointed to each of them.

"I had nothing to do with any of it.  Isn't Gunn supposed to be in a coma?  And aren't you dead?  Wait.  I was poof at one point too."

Cordelia stared at Spike's head.  "Oh my God, what happened to your hair?"

Spike ran his hand through his newly shorn hair.  It was dark underneath.  Then he winced as he touched the stitches on the back.  "Had to put stitches in, love.  Hair was in the way.  Needed a new look, I did."

"It looks cute," Cordy answered.

"Me, cute.  Not exactly a word I would use to describe me.  It'll grow."

"I like it.  Makes you look even more bad-ass."

"Cordy, we need to find the stuffed animal.  What else do we do?"  Angel wanted her on topic.

"We have to wait for Wes.  And find out where your goddess went."

"Uh, excuse me.  Wes is dead now.  You can't wait for him.  Got gutted by that demon thingy."  Everyone looked at him and pointed to Cordy.  "Right.  I'll shut up now."

"Finally.  Spike, go with Gunn to Wes's place.  See if he has Feganbaum in one of the boxes he took from Fred's office.  We'll be here, doing more research until Wes arrives or whatever he'll do now.  I just hope he's corporeal."

"He hates ghosts," Spike pointed out to Cordelia.

"Don't know.  Not in charge.  PTBs do their own thing," she answered.

"Including making a person talk to a giant hamburger, but we'll let that slide."  They all turned around to see Wesley standing by the entryway.  Thank God he had changed, Cordelia thought.  Gross, was all she could think.  She was so glad she hadn't had any fatal wound that had killed her.  To have her entrails out for everyone to see.

Wesley looked and sounded better.  He had even shaved.  Although she didn't know how one did that in their dimension.  She had always just thought something and it happened.  He must be feeling a little better.  Still, he was a hottie when he was all scruffy and forlorn.  They didn't need that on the team right now.  They needed the old Wes.  Book Man was what they needed.

Gunn looked like he was ready to drop, but Cordy knew he would hold together.  He had always held them together.  That's why he fit so well with the rest of them.  He had no power other than himself.  She needed that right then.

Angel looked as if someone had tortured him for days.  Cuts, slices and bruises everywhere.  The man who was a vampire had held up well during the battle, but he was fading.  If she didn't do something fast, he'd hole up in his room and never come out again.  He needed to make a difference.  They all needed to make a difference.  They needed their family back.  Together.  And damn the Powers That Be for putting them through this.

"Uh, Wes.  How are you?"  Leave it to Mr. I-Don't-Ever-Know-What-to-Say to speak first.

"He's here, Angel.  Let's work with that, shall we," Cordy cut him off.

Wes didn't look like he wanted to kill Angel for getting him killed, but give him time.  "I brought some volumes I thought would help.  That library you gave me access to is amazing." 

Wes actually smiled and it warmed Cordelia's heart.

"Well, let's get crackin', English.  Move Spike.  And you might want to help me a little, since I should be in a coma right about now."  Spike and Gunn moved slowly out the door to find their prize.  "The hair, Spike.  Oh, the stitches.  We'll compare later," Gunn started as they walked out the door.

Wesley, Cordelia and Angel stared at each other for a moment.  They had often looked at each other like this for moments like this, right when they had to go to work.  The three of them knew that the bond they shared would never be broken, even in death.  Something that Gunn, Fred, or even Spike would never know.

"Let's get to work," Angel said, breaking the spell.

So, here it is.  Please review.  I just wanted to see Cordy kick their butts into gear one more time.  Thanks beforehand for comments and suggestions.


End file.
